“Fuck.”My ragged breath takes hold of my heart and lungs, and my head falls on top of hers. Her shampoo smells like lavender and honey, and I want to wrap her scent around me like a warm blanket.
I don’t know what kind of magic pussy this girl has, but she’s got me thinking of flowers and cuddling. None of that nonsense is who I am or who I want to be. I close my eyes as I try to savor the moment, knowing I’ll never have it again, even though I want to.
ChapterEight
Bree
Igaze at the bruises covering my body in the mirror of the locker room. I’m not the only one battered and bloody—all the women seem to be. Some more than others, but no one has as many scrapes and cuts along their flesh as me. Apparently, I attracted the craziest man of them all. But this man, though volatile, unleashed something impossible. He made me feel.
Standing in front of the fogged-up mirror, I see the slashes of nails, teeth marks, and tree bark—reminders of my deviance on my skin. My fingers trail the various marks on my flesh. Relief runs through me when I remember I brought loose jogging pants and an oversized black hoodie. Anything tight touching my skin would hurt like hell.I need to treat these when I get home because some of them are deep and look rough.
I tie up my wet hair in a messy bun and grab my duffle bag, shuffling out of the locker room.Casting my head down, I avoid looking directly at anyone walking by. Making eye contact with anyone who might suspect what I did in the forest makes me uncomfortable. I don’t understand why I’m sheepish about what I did—this place is created for it. But shame washes over me at the knowledge of what I like. I fucked a murderer, and my morals went right out the window. Sure, Ted was a criminal—well, I don’t know for sure, but the way his sleazy self kept coming on to me, it was pretty evident the guy couldn’t take no for an answer. Although, killing him is worse. Or maybe it isn’t. I’m not going to feel bad about guys like him getting what they deserve.
“Hey, sweetheart.” I look up to see the pretty waitress from earlier and can’t help returning her warm, sweet smile. Her eyes work their way along my exposed neck and face. “Looks like you had a little too much fun, huh?” Her hands move to her pocket, and she pulls out a small cylinder-shaped container of cream before handing it to me. “Put this on all your cuts and scrapes. It will help them heal better.”
I take the small container and turn it in my hand. “What is it?”
“It’s like polysporin, only much stronger.”
I smile at her as I place the container in the pocket of my hoodie. “Some weird hunt club magic?”
“You could say that. It’s completely safe. I’ve been using it for a while.”
“What?” I’m unable to hide the shock in my voice. “Sorry, I just assumed you worked here. You look—”
“Innocent?”
“Well, yes.”
She laughs, the sound melodic. “It’s always the innocent ones.” She places a hand on my shoulder and brushes by me.
“Hey, what’s your name?”
“It’s Noelle.”
“That’s pretty. Nice to meet you, Noelle.”
I push through the large doors of the manor and into the crisp night air. The sense of danger and the rush of excitement no longer propels my tired body. All I want is my warm bed and my giant, cuddly comforter.
I reach into my duffle bag and dig out my phone to order an Uber.
“I’ll drive you home.”
I jump at the deep voice and look up to see Mikhail. He’s dressed in a black suit, his white plastic mask on his face—a mirage hiding the animal.
“I’m fine, thank you.”
He tugs my duffel from me and slings it onto his shoulder before taking my hand in his.“You seem confused, Mouse. You assumed I was offering. I wasn’t. It was more of a command.”
The fucking nerve of this man. “I’m not your property. You seem to think you can tell me what to do.”
“Little Mouse, it’s cute how you’re trying to stand up for yourself, but how about we try a little honesty? You like it when I tell you what to do. Bet if I take your sweatpants off right now, your cunt will be soaking for me.”
He trails his hand along the elastic of my pants, fingers barely touching my skin. His finger dips into my sweatpants and glides inside my panties. He pulls his hand out and places his wet finger in front of my face. “Like I said. Dripping.”
“That doesn’t mean you can boss me around.”
“Get on your knees.”